Barbie Is Stupid
by KeepItLEGIT
Summary: Name: Haruno Sakura Age: 16 Residence: Konoha Occupation: Trying to ignore the utter hotness of Uchiha Sasuke and get this stupid photo shoot over with before Pig catches them making out in the Janitor’s closet. Ah, the life of a Sharigan Model…SasuSaku
1. Because She Gets Jobs She Wants

Barbie Is Stupid…

**A/N: **First of my part of stories on me and my friend Tia's (Google Gajin's) joint account called seethroughglass. I'm not—never mind. I really need to work on my AU stuff, so this will be AU. And, as usual from me, it's going to be SasuSaku!

* * *

_Hey, Forehead-girl_

_**Yeah**_

_What's it like working with—_

_**Terrible**_

**---**

**Barbie Is Stupid…**

**Chapter One**

**Because She Gets Jobs She Wants**

* * *

"_Please! _You don't even understand how much I need this job!"

Welcome to Maple Leaf Mall, located about…I don't know, right in the middle of downtown Konoha, in the epicenter of life, the holder of all teenage life.

"No. You're too ordinary."

In a store, right in the middle of the mall in the middle of downtown Konoha, in the epicenter of the epicenter of life, the holder of the holder of all teenage girl dreams, there was a monstrous line. Everyone wanted a job at THE Modeling Agency.

"_Pretty please!"_

"Red that color does not photograph well….

The line to the doors swerved out of the glass, and around corners, and even out of the shiny see through glass of the mall. Girls ages fourteen to twenty three (maybe a few straggling middle-agers) were all contained in the line that went about a thirty-seventh of a mile every ten minutes, and maybe a tad bit slower than a turtle on steroids.

_Next!_"

An irritated, old, scratchy voice yelled over all the impatient groans of the tired girls, and with that announcement, the line moved about a centimeter forward, and another girl's dream was moved about seventy billion light years backward. A crying, obviously starved to death, redhead scuttled out of the doorways of _Sharigan _Modeling Agency, her heavily rimmed black glasses fogged with her tears.

Yamanaka Ino, naturally blonde, naturally bubbly, naturally contradicted, naturally fit, naturally beautiful with natural blue eyes, stared at the wailing girl who ran to all of her ugly friends without a single hint of apathy in her baby blue eyes. "That's atrocious. I wish she would get a room," She scoffed, flipping her lengthy hair out of her face. She normally wore it in a high ponytail, but, rumor has it, Sharigan likes long hair, especially if it's blonde.

"_You're too fat! __**Next**__!_"

Said girl's best friend, Haruno Sakura felt a pang in her heart. It was one thing to say someone looked 'ordinary' but to call her _fat_. That's something most people can't control, even if it's really their fault for being far too lazy. According to her studies, most people start their overeating habits by watching their parents, facing a life threatening moment on your own, or seeing the death of a dear one and crashing into depression. Food was their comfort, and however unhealthy, the girl could understand.

Sakura sighed. "That's mean, Ino. She just got her dreams crushed."

"Forehead-girl," Ino started, "she sounds like a breaching whale."

Sakura couldn't help but laugh at that, mostly because it was true. She'd never heard a sob so ugly.

Minutes later, though it felt like hours, the line had finally started moving (maybe the judges were nexting groups of girls at a time?), and Ino and Sakura had gotten close enough to the modern store to see the jury. There were five of them, old, and wrinkling, two, young and fresh, one, and middle-aged and (hopefully) understanding two. Upon laying her bright blue eyes on the youngest judge, Ino gripped her friend's sleeve desperately, her boy-crush-in-process face forming.

"_Saaaaa-kuuuuu-raaaaa_," She pestered, poking the girl's shoulder until it flashed red.

The studious girl was too busy texting her Mom about how tiring this was, and how she was only doing this because Ino had literally dragged her here to notice dark, obsidian eyes shying away from the brunette in front of him now, and grazing over to her.

He told himself he was just glancing, just glancing at the girl texting on her pink Sidekick 3 with the soft, touchable curve of her hips, smooth, slightly tanned porcelain skin, angelic face, plump, kissable, pink lips, bright, hypnotizing green eyes, and exotic, flowing pink hair. Interrupting Weston's final decision—he was the man-in-charge and one who decided the girls' fates—the teenager caught Sakura's eye and pointed.

"I want her."

* * *

Sakura's eyes widened and she almost dropped her phone. Did she just—was it—

"Holy shit, Sakura! That stud-muffin from the commercial on MTV just said he wanted you!" Ino practically screamed in her ear.

She couldn't believe it, and she sure as hell didn't want to. Sakura didn't want to do this! She was moral support for her friend and that was it! She didn't want to be all over the TV, known as that girl who was with Sharigan. She wanted to be a happy wallflower, not a buzzing bee.

"You, with the pink hair, come," Mr. Wallaby drawled, raising his pencil-holding hand up and gesturing for her to come forward, to the judging table. The other girls still ahead of her glared evilly at her, some even dared to hiss as she and Ino, who still refused to unlatch herself from her best friend' s arm, walked down the path the other model hopefuls unconsciously prepared.

It was like walking on Death Row.

Suddenly, they stopped. Well, not so suddenly, seeing as she ran into the table, knocking Judge #4's coffee mug over and onto his stark white dress shirt. Her face flashed bright red, the chant _Oh shit, oh shit, oh motherfucking shit _running through her mind on repeat.

Eyes analyzed her, making her feel more than uncomfortable, especially toward the end, when smoldering dark eyes landed on hers, boring into her soul. On normal occasions, her heart would pop out of her chest in embarrassment, but, unfortunately, that already happened when she ruined Wallaby's shirt.

The stud from the commercial nodded to what looked like the man in charge, just going by the commanding aura spewing from his pores, and when he nodded, everybody else did.

Ino groaned lowly, just loud enough for Sakura to hear. "What a bunch of Yes Men."

"I don't like your hair." The youngest at the table deadpanned, staring directly at Sakura.

"Me neither."

"Atrocious."

"No style whatsoever."

"What an ugly color—" Mr. Wallaby scorned, only to get a sharp glare from the teen judge.

Through a tight jaw, he corrected. "The color is fine."

"Yeah, Wallaby, what's your problem?"

"The color is cute."

"Adorable."

Sakura glanced nervously to her friend, her eyes mirroring all of the apprehensive and uncomfortable vibes jumping around in her head. This was crazy.

After all the agreeing with commercial boy ceased, he turned back to Sakura. "Cut it. Come back tomorrow and we have a shoot."

Ino cleared her throat, casting attention to her. "Um, about that, I don't think I can cut my hair."

"I wasn't talking to **you**."

"Yeah, not talking to—"Wallaby started, only to get a hand shoved over his mouth.

Sakura almost laughed, until she saw her friend's usual quick remark never come. That only meant one thing; Ino has officially been shot down.

The roseate placed a hand on her hip, and glared directly at the teen judge. "If you want me to be in your agency, you're going to have to accept Ino, too. I don't do anything without her, and she's the reason I'm here, 'cause, newsflash, I could really careless about being all over TV and drooling over you, okay, commercial boy?"

* * *

"I don't believe he got us kicked out the mall." Sakura huffed, plopping on her couch the next day, though she was still complaining about it. The dark haired mystery boy had simply smirked at her, looking like he was about to accept her offer, but then he called security and actually had both she and Ino kicked out. Literally, there's a footprint on the back of her jeans.

Her blonde best friend sighed, flipping on the TV. "Yeah, the mall usually invites me in, not kick me out. We should sue."

Sakura laughed. "What're we suing for? Unlawfully staining very nice jeans with unlawfully dirty, muddy, security guard boots?"

"Yes." The Yamanaka deadpanned, placing the remote carefully on her friend's coffee table, and elegantly crossing her legs as she sat on the couch with a royal air. Sakura giggled at Ino's antics, before her attention was diverted to the bright lights of the television. Commercial breaks were boring, but you had to deal with them.

A flash of white filled the screen before it dissipated into the familiar food court of Maple Leaf Mall, and two girls were sitting at a table, pathetically dressed. 'Oh, my god, Becky, school's almost here, and I don't have any new clothes' one complained, throwing her arms dramatically in the air. Becky, the other girl, sighed, 'Me either, Emmy. I wonder what we can do here besides wish we had new clothes for school. I can't find anything'. The food court gasped simultaneously, them all turning to the two sulking girls. Together they chanted, 'What do you mean you can't find anything'. Then, the camera panned around the entire mall, stopping for a spit second at Journeys, Aeropastle, Abercrombie & Fitch, GAP, and Hot Topic. When the camera finished panning everywhere, it zoomed in to the front of the mall, the sign 'Maple Leaf Mall' visible, as well as the two girls, Becky and Emmy hands full of bags, and the infamous commercial boy with his arms around their shoulders, a smirk on his face. The girls laughed, 'Maple Leaf Mall' and the teen kissed Becky, long enough to get any girl's heart racing, and then he said in a super irresistible voice, 'Find everything your heart desires'.

Ino gasped. "That could've been _us_, Sakura. I could've been Becky, getting major smooches!"

"That's disgusting, Piggy-chan," Sakura mumbled, changing the channel. She hated guys like that, and even she could admit, a soon-to-be junior yet to have her first kiss, could tell something was off about it. Rolling her green eyes, she continued. "I mean, that looked so lacking in passion that I bet he's gay."

Ino was incredulous. "What?! That was like, two seconds away from having too much tongue for French people! It was almost too youthful for—"

From the front foyer, Ms. Haruno called. "_Girls, you have mail!_"

* * *

**Strawberry Top and Banana,**

_**Saturday 12:30. **_

_**P.S.: I don't answer stupid questions so don't call me asking what that means. **_

**Uchiha Sasuke**

* * *

A/N: Enjoy it? Yeah, you had better have! Lol, um, so, I hope Sasuke isn't too OOC, I'm not so good at his character, but practice makes perfect, no? This is written by me, NaruBaby2496, so if you recognize a writing style or whatever, don't freak. It's my and my friend Tia's (Google Gajin's) joint account.

This is something we call bRead! (a story) and if you review or not if it becomes a fResh or a buRnt. fResh is when I finish it successfully, and buRnt is the opposite. Still confused? Go to our page!

Anyway,…I hope you liked the first chapter and as always with me, this is an experiment.

OH! Any other reasons you could think of why Barbie is Stupid would gladly be taken!

Review, please!

~NaruBaby2496


	2. Because No One Would Dare Cut Her Hair

Barbie Is Stupid…

_**A/N**__: Coolie-sauce; nine reviews, first chapter, less than twenty-four hours? Ya'll are kick arsenal._

_Okay, commence reading. I'm done blabbing. _

* * *

_Would _you _ever cut my hair?_

_**Uh…**_

_Weeellll?_

_**Only if I was **_**really **_**jealous, Pig.**_

---

**Barbie Is Stupid…**

**Chapter Two**

**Because No One Would Dare Cut **_**Her **_**Hair **

**(Except vicious, torturous three year olds)**

**((Beware the toddling))**

* * *

Here, in the beautiful green room of a beautiful girl, is where we continue are marvelous venture through the rapidly changing life of Haruno Sakura, fifteen-year-old beauty, and newest recruit to _Sharigan _modeling agency. All she has to do to prepare is take the scissors and—

"I can't do it, Momoko!" Sakura cried, watching her face disgruntle into something ugly at her frustration from the view of her bedroom mirror. She was still holding out a strand of her strawberry—oh my god, speaking of; did Sasuke seriously call her a strawberry top?! Strawberry tops are so green, last time she checked, and, um, newsflash, her hair is totally pink—hair as if she were about to snip it short.

Her older sister by three years, a used-to-be-senior at Konoha Academy, the same tortuous school Sakura was forced to attend, since, apparently, education is valued, laughed wickedly at her little sister's discomfort from the comfort of a kinda-sorta made bed. It wasn't as if she just laughed like a maniac stalker whenever Sakura was in a fit, she laughed like that whenever, and Sasori (her uber HAWT boyfriend) thought it was cute. Whatever; some people don't know adorable when the see it—yes that means flash the camera in Sakura's direction and make it rain hail in Momoko's. Imbeciles.

She was about the same complexion of Sakura, if not darker, consequence of her staying in Suna with her boyfriend during most months of this summer's vacation. True to her name, which meant Peach Tree, she was a really sweet person, caring, but sometimes, she could be 'tart' or, in other words, really snappy and quick with the bitch-ass-ness. Her hair was pink, too, but an orange hue, more like a reddish/orangey/pinkish coral than anything else was, while her sister's hair was cotton candy or even petal pink. Momoko's warm brown eyes danced when she noticed Sakura trying once again to cut her hair.

"Hey, Little Sis, I know Mom taught you how to use scissors, right? Maybe you're just a retart."

Her hands landed on the delicate shoulders of her younger sister, making Sakura jump and shred off a half inch from her ends.

The roseate shrieked. "Holy fucking shit! My _hair_!"

Ceremonially, she dived to her knees, and reached for the fallen pieces of lost strands, tears demanding to fall from her eyes. Sakura stroked the broken, dead hair sympathetically, a pout on her lips. "You are a murderer, Momoko. You killed—"

Back on the bed and now flipping through the latest issue of Seventeen Magazine, the elder sister scoffed. "_I_ wasn't the one with the scissors."

"But—"

"Nope."

"You knocked—"

"You have no solidifiable proof."

Sakura blinked twice, rising up from the ground and evilly pointing the scissors (which happened to be her pink safety scissors from grade three) in between Momoko's eyes. "You _bitch_! Solidifiable isn't even a _word_!"

She yawned in return, knocking the scissors away. "Grounded is. Watch your language. Mom's leaving tomorrow for Milan and I'll be your babysitter."

LE-UGH, UGLY PEOPLE.

Like life didn't hate her enough already. Now Queen of the Bipolar Biatches is going to watch over her twenty-four/seven. Have you ever been under the watch of your older, evil, nosy, bitch, slightly whorish, older sister?

It's like ten times worse.

Throwing the scissors astray, Sakura pushed her sister off her bed with a hard _thump_. It didn't look it, but the chick could lift a two-hundred pound man if she wanted. And that was with one hand.

"Get out my room. I've got people to call, things to do," Sakura glared daggers into the air, her jaw clenching, "_evil elder sisters to __**destroy**_**.**"

She seethed the latter part of her sentence underneath her breath, already dialing a well-known number on her house phone and hoping a certain brown-eyed witch would already be creeping out. By the time, the dial tone started ringing; Momoko rose from the ground, dusting imaginary dust off her (nonexistent) butt and (Shorty-Shorty-booty-short) shorts.

Momoko growled. "What was that, Little Sister?"

"I SAID 'BYE'!No, not you, silly, you just said hello, did you not? I was talking to my **life-shredder of a sister who happens to smell like week old **_**cabbage**_. Yeah, um, I was wondering if you wanted to go...oh no, not now—_**GET THE FUCKING HELL OUTTA MY ROOM!**_ "

-

"God, Momoko is such a butt-nugget, you don't even understand, Ino."

* * *

All of the Haruno family was awake early that morning, Momoko and Sakura, to watch out Mrs. Haruno, Rei, the mother of the two Haruno girls, and a proud redheaded green-eyed woman. She was off to Milan on an inspirational trip and a chance to meet with a couple of Modeling Agencies in hopes of winning their hearts with her newest line.

You see, she was a full-fledged artist, and during the school year, Rei was an interior designer, an occupation that allowed her to stay close to home for her school-aged children, and during the summer, she would return to her visual arts like painting and designing clothes. She honestly was creatively gifted. That little attribute made her one awesome, cool, Mom.

Sakura's Dad died in a car accident on the way to one of his board meetings. It happened a long time ago, when Sakura was barely six years old, Momoko nine years old, so they only remembered bits and pieces of their father. They were happy that their mother decided to be an independent woman, a single mother to top that as well. It made her even easier to look up to as a role model.

As one of there mother's associates rolled up in a Rolls-Royce (Ford Windstar Minivan), Rei wrapped both of her girls in a tight hug, wiggling them slightly. With a low, happy, barely audible grunt, she released the embrace. The woman smiled. "I'll miss you guys so much; Sakura, no parties later than midnight, especially if your sister has something going on as well; Momoko, yes, Sasori can come over, but if I hear but _one _whisper from Sakura of you two doing something you shouldn't in **my **household—"

The almost-redhead blushed, embarrassed. "I get it, Mom. The carpool is about to leave already. Have fun in Milan; make them love you."

Sakura giggled, hugging her Mom one more time. "I'll see you when you get back, Kaa-san. Don't puke on the plane."

Rei kissed the top of her daughters' heads lovingly, one last time, before she waved goodbye, skipping down the stairs, off the porch, and into the Rolls-Royce (_**Ford Windstar Minivan**_). Sakura let her sister wrap an arm around her shoulder as the both waved, with huge, cheesy, smiles on their faces.

However, as soon as the Rolls-Royce (It's not even worth it this time…) turned a corner and disappeared in the early sunrise, Momoko turned on her heel and walked into the house, locking the see through glass door in the process.

A smug smile on her face, the elder sister informed, "I'm having a party. You're not invited." She pouted, mimicking a sad puppy. "Aw, so sad."

And with that, the front door was swung shut, and even from outside Sakura could hear her sister chaining the door locked.

At first, the roseate could care less; she had friends who lived around here. All she had to do was—

"My cell phone is still in the house…" Sakura gasped, horror etched on her face.

For the past two to three years, Ms. Haruno has not been able to live without her Baby. It had everything on there. Her important dates with uber hotties (Real Life: 0 Dream Life: 73), her test dates, her hang out days, her text messages, her pointless videos of utter randomness. If _anyone _got his or her hands on that besides her, she was going to die.

But, first things first, she needed to get out of the cold-before-the-sun-is-up weather, especially when she had nothing but bunny slippers on.

* * *

"Bunny Slippers?"

Pearly-white eyes trailed up from her pink bunny clad feet and to her green eyes, humor visible in the white eyes. Hyuuga Neji was the closest house that she knew how to get to without much thought, and it inhabited about the only person she knew who wouldn't be asleep at this hour. Neji was a _really _early bird.

Sakura growled and forced her way into large mansion of a house. "Bite me, White-Eyes."

He wasn't necessarily a friend, but, they'd known each other since the second grade, and bonds like that are fated, as he would say, to stay somewhat tied. Besides, they lived across the street and a couple houses down from each other. When they were kids and it was cool to have more guy friends than girl, Sakura would play baseball with him all the time in his huge backyard.

Yeah, his is like the second largest house in the whole subdivision.

Sakura sipped some tea, which the Hyuuga had made earlier, and sighed happily. "Thanks; its cold out, you know. I can't wait 'til the sun get's up all the way. Me and Ino are going to the pool today at twelve thirty."

"Really? I thought you were supposed to be at the mall then…" Neji asked in his 'I really don't care what you are talking about but since I was raised to be polite to girls, I'll talk' voice. It annoyed Sakura to no end.

The roseate raised a cotton candy eyebrow. "Um, no, how did you know about it, anyway?"

"Uchiha talks about 'that pink-haired girl' like a broken record."

She didn't know why that made her heart rate increase tenfold, or why her emerald eyes decided to widen, her cheeks chose to heat up red, and her hands turning to jelly, making her drop the expensive tea-filled china on the even-more-expensive white—okay, first coffee and now tea? What is with her brain and wanted to destroy all nice white things?—carpet, the light brown liquid spreading like spilled ink. Thankfully, though, it was carpet, and the china just bounced back up, not even a scratch on it.

What was really odd in her mind, though was trying to figure out why that name sounded so familiar. Where did she hear it? No—where did she _see _it.

DAMN SHORT TERM MEMORY TO HELL!

Nervously, Sakura muttered a, "Sorry" before picking up the glass and trying to wipe off the tea with her too-old-to-really-know robe.

Neji's chuckle, though, snapped her out of it. "You're weird, Haruno. I could just get someone to clean that up, you know. Don't freak out."

Sakura glared momentarily at him before returning to her seat.

"Anyway, aren't you supposed to have your hair cut?"

She tensed. "Um, yeah, but I don't want to." She wanted to add: "'Cause it took me hella long to grow it like this so you better step off, White-Eyes" but she felt that was a little unnecessary.

"Sasuke's going to get you fired then." The prodigy took a drink of his tea, adding more oomph to his 'matter-of-fact' state comment.

Something told her that saying that this Sasuke was the one who wanted her in the first place—she put one and one together and figured he was the teen judge—and that it would be immature and ignorant to fire her just because she didn't cut her hair. However, she just shrugged and sighed, "We'll see, won't we?"

* * *

They opened the double doors of Maple Leaf Mall together, casting eyes of the group of boys already leaving, because well, they looked like super models. Because that's what they were now. Models. For _Sharigan_.

"_Oh my god, Forehead! I don't belie—_**SHIT!**"

Sakura scoffed at her friend who'd fallen face first on the tiled mall ground. "I told you not to wear those shoes."

The roseate had borrowed some of Ino's clothes—since the front, side and back doors to her house were locked still, even the windows—and however fuller figured they made her look, she felt uncomfortable. She was never one to wear skinny jeans, especially not the _real _skinny jeans, so it felt like her butt was being suffocated. Black camisoles were cool with her as long as they were worn with something on top, which thankfully there was. Ino had dug and dug, but eventually she found the right high-top black Air Force Ones that would match Sakura's loose fitting, off one shoulder, white graphic t-shirt with a black lion on it. She tried to tell Ino that white stuff (not that white stuff, pervs) and her didn't go so well, you know, with the coffee and the tea and the spillage and such.

The blonde, much more provocatively dressed Ino had simply ignored her, and said, "You look HAWT. Don't worry."

Worry was the number one focus on her mind though, because she had yet to cut her hair, and, just because luck, like, wants to have her babies, Sasuke was arriving to work at the same time as the girls, and was the first to see the pink locks flowing down her back.

* * *

Sakura hadn't been dragged away from her friends by the wrist since she was four years old at the candy store. She forgot it hurt so _bugger fucking _much.

Ripping her wrist from the steaming Uchiha's grasp with a trying grunt, Sakura growled. "What the hell is your problem?! We're all going to the same place, there is no need to look like we just did something we shouldn't have, now is there?!"

Sasuke simply spared her an agitated glance before he took her wrist again, rather forcefully, and dragged her further into the _Sharigan_, to what looked like the main lobby. Sakura followed reluctantly, because, honestly, if she ripped her hand out of his grasp now, she would lose the limb and she rather needed that to write, stumbling clumsily whenever she lost her footing.

Suddenly, they stopped, and he released her wrist, but before Sakura could make a run for it, she was swept off her feet, two strong arms carrying her, one by her head, and the other under her knees. Sasuke smirked, changing to a walking pace through the agency inside the mall. "You're light."

Sakura seethed, "And. You. Are. **E. vil.**"

"Hn. So I've heard."

After multiple (failed) attempts of escaping the (sexily) strong grasp of the Uchiha, Sakura finally gave up with a huff, and simply crossed her arms, relaxing in his.

When he stepped into the elevator and pressed a couple buttons—let me say, this headquarters is like a building inside a building—Sakura mumbled, "Don't you think it's strange that you're carrying me _bridal_ style through a Modeling Agency Headquarters?"

He shrugged, sending her a little higher in the air for a split second.

"Where are we going?"

As soon as the words left her lips, the elevator doors opened with a _ding_, to show a hair and make-up area, the walls made of complete glass, those cool hairdressing chairs were red, white (great, more white for her to ruin), and black, and everything was in sharp, crisp lines. _So this_, Sakura thought, _must be the hair salon me and Ino could never find before_.

Sakura felt her feet land carefully on the black tile floor, and, just like an overly protected child, before she could sprint out the door with the 'EXIT' sign above it and use the stairs to jet out of here instead of the elevator; a strong hand landed on her wrist and yanked her forward.

"I'm cutting your hair."

Sakura gasped/shrieked. "WHAT?! But—I—" She corrected her hyperactive tone, to a more calm, level and lucid one. "I've already cut it, see?"

She showed him the section of hair that she accidently cut a half inch off of on Friday, and laughed gingerly. "See? Totally did."

Sasuke stared blankly at her, smiling, pointing at the hair that she 'cut' like an idiot. He didn't know why he was even offering; if it were anyone else, he would've fired them by now.

He scowled, pointing to one of the many open seats. "Shut up. Sit down. Right there."

"No."

He'd never ever in his lifetime been told 'no' by a newbie. It wasn't even her first day here and she was telling _him_ 'no'? He was the founder's son. He was the person everyone listened to whether they liked it or not. And she, the little pink headed demon, just told him no.

W.

T.

F.

Sasuke glared at her, stopping looking through Mariella's many beauty supply drawers for the right type of scissors, and seethed. "_What?_"

Sakura measured up his glare with one of her own. "I said no. Are you, like, deaf? Or are you so spoiled that you don't know what that means?"

* * *

"Hand me the brush," Sasuke ordered, having found enough duct tape to tape her to the chair. It was kind of fun, he had to admit, especially after he got someone to wash her hair. She'd put up more of a fight than a water fearing Great Dane. To have someone around that would dare disagree or put up a fight with him just because he was an Uchiha was nice, though. It changed things.

However, the roseate and her stupid stubbornness could get to a person. She pretended to look around for the hair necessity. After two seconds, she whined, "Oh, my! It seems I can't find it."

Really? It was right in front of her face. Sasuke groaned and reached over her, grabbing the wooden handle easily. "Oh, there it is!" She said dumbly.

He rolled his eyes and started brushing through her hair, softly, his hand warm on the back of her neck to keep her head from jerking backward when he met a tangle. Surprisingly enough, there were none, but, blaming his perfectionism, he kept brushing, running his hand gently through the rose hair that was softer than snow.

It was silent for the whole process, Sakura being too embarrassingly distracted by the gentle feel of the brush running through her hair, the heat on the back of her neck reminding her that his thumb really was caressing the nape; the burning blush on her cheeks was only growing larger by the second. The fact they were alone was starting to get to her, as well as the dead silence. She barely knew the guy, and communication was always fun!

"Hey, um…"

"Sasuke. Uchiha Sasuke." He mumbled running his fingers through her hair one last time before it would start to register as taking to long for anyone to brush anyone's hair.

Sakura swallowed. She knew that she was eventually going to run into this Sasuke guy but to meet him in person and know that he was the one you were basically wrestling with the whole time _and _he got you this kick ass job? Man, she's, like, telling Kami she didn't want bazillion dollars.

"Right, Sasuke, hi, I'm Sakura. Haruno Sakura."

_Way to sound like a geek, Sakura_….

"Anyway, I have a question—actually two."

From the mirror, she could see him nod softly.

"Yeah, um, you sent a note-thingy to my house…? Not saying you're a stalker or anything, but, um, how'd you get my address?"

Sasuke smirked, grabbing the scissors and snapping them twice. "I have my connections, but between me and you, I made Hyuuga tell me. He's your neighbor, right?"

She nodded as she felt her seat rise with two pumps of a lever. "Yep. Across the street and a couple of houses over. _Sasuke_—!"

Judging by the reflection in the mirror and the sudden cold feeling she was feeling in her gut, the Uchiha was about to snip she-didn't-know-how-many inches of hair off her head. By saying his name so urgently, though, he stopped centimeters from her locks and glanced toward her, a slightly shocked, mildly worried, mostly inquisitive look glazed over in her eyes.

Sakura shrugged. "I had another question."

She could've sworn she heard him mutter annoying, but besides that, he moved the scissors away from her hair, paying attention.

"Yeah, um, why should I trust you cutting my hair? It's, like, you know, a girl's favorite accessory and I'm not killing you, but I will be if you fuck up my hair."

Sasuke chuckled, or made a sorry excuse of a laugh, and sighed. "My Mom is the head of this department. I'd like to think I know what I'm doing."

The scissors almost made contact with her hair again, sending nervous shivers up her spine with each growing millimeter, and she tensed again, moving her head suddenly, sending the chair around in a circle so she could face him, he who was still trying to cut her hair.

She stared at him. "I'm serious. You better not give me a chicken-ass haircut, because that on your head is **not **cute!"

"Hn. I wasn't going to—"

Sakura turned back around in the chair, facing away from him. "You better have not."

"But…now it sounds like a good idea."

She gaped, lost for words at how bastardly that would be if he actually did that. Eventually, she closed her eyes, trying with all her might to ignore the snipping of the scissors and the hair of hers flowing to the ground.

And then, a picture of her with a Sasuke haircut found it's way to her mind, and in a flash she opened her eyes, glaring at him from the mirror.

"I will kill you."

"Try it."

"Bite me, Uchiha."

* * *

**A/N: **Another chapter, another day, another success, another failure. Life is always moving in circles isn't it? Nobody has the exact same schedule in a row, do they? Sure, they might, but nothing goes exactly the same, and that's what I love about it.

Sorry to go all poetic on you there.

But, to the story! This chapter is really long, I know, but I just wanted to get a few things settled, and I'd think it'd be weird for Sakura to _not _get her hair cut in this chapter, you know? Even if I halfed it, it'd seem weird to me.

Anyway, thanks for all the reviews and alerts last chapter; I hope this one lived up to expectations. Future reference, don't expect daily updates. I'm on Spring Break right now, so I'm only doing what I can when I can. Oh! And, TheCherryOnTop is one kick-arse story. I'm late, but I just started reading it (Ch. 6) and it's awesome. I really want to make a blog now. LOL

Review!

~NaruBaby2496


	3. Because She Can't Talk

Barbie Is Stupid…

**A/N**: I'm having a heart attack! No way, people, I have an objection! I'm so not funny! LOL; I'm queer. (But, not gay, err, lesbian, but, not, because I like...boys...yes!)

Um…on to the story.

* * *

_What would you do without me, my darling Sakura-chan?_

_**Without you, I'd probably have my hair on my head and not in some garbage can.**_

…_Oh, come on, that's rude! You look cute and it's uber edgy. _

_**Tch, so is your face and you don't see me stating obvious!**_

**Barbie Is Stupid…**

**Chapter Three**

**Because She Can't Form Words with Her Mouth**

**((Ooh, that sounds semi-nasty))**

* * *

Having found her BFFITWMFW (Best Friend in the Whole Muther Fudgin World) ogling at all the super hot male models just hanging out in what looked like a lounge of a house, three huge TVs in the middle of the room, a Wii, PS3, and a Xbox 360 at each—and she so couldn't tell but it totally looked like this one dude was getting mentally, physically, and _emotionally __owned _on Modern Warfare. It was so…_her…_to care more about why this guy was still using a sniper when it was so blatantly obvious that he was being owned by the other guy's bombs. His men were falling left and right.

Sakura tapped Ino's shoulder. "Hey, I'm going to go and watch them play, want to come?"

The blonde shook her ponytail left and right, shaking her head in disagreement. She'd had her eye on this one model. Someone say 'pack that tenderized meat up and seal him tight to go', please! Sakura could read that hungry look on her face so easily that she could probably publish an Ino Language Dictionary and make millions out of it one day.

_First Entry_, Sakura noted mentally, walking nearer to the crowd and the game of war going on.

_Arrows (Usually Accompanied with Bow &): If you are a delicious species of the opposite sex, I suggest running and screaming 'cause Ino-pig thinks your HAWT (Handsome and Wonderfully Tantalizing *page 45*) Hearts have formed in her eyes and she, like cupid, is about to suggest you use your 'arrow' on her 'bow'. Wink-Wink._

Sakura squeezed her way through the huddle, which wasn't too hard considering she was so small compared to the big (sexy, firm, hard, _model_) boys surrounding the TV and paying probably more attention to the game then the ever have to any of their girlfriends.

Game-heads.

When she reached the front, she almost gasped. This guy had to be hacking. There's no way he could come from so far in the end, stuck in sweaty arm pits, and pull a miracle and flame-throw all of bomber's people. He'd won.

She gasped. "Dude, how'd you do that?"

Sakura was quickly reconsidering the whole 'opening her mouth and talking' deal, because, two seconds later, these super delectable college boys, they had to be in college, they looked too…not old, but not experienced, not wrinkly but not—you get it. She glanced at the blonde wearing an artsy amount of eyeliner around his gorgeous blue eyes. He wore his hair like Ino, in this cool half ponytail deal that looked strangely not gay on him, and, even Sakura wanted to admit, she would so tap that if the opportunity arose.

He smiled, straight, perfect white teeth glistening, and held out a hand. "Deidara, un. Sunagakure University."

"Hi," Sakura smiled, taking his hand, "I'm Sakura, Konoha Board & Prep. I'm kind of new here, so it's awesome to meet you, man."

Deidara raised his Xbox controller, gesturing toward her playing. "You up for one? I'll let you play tag team with Itachi and I'll get Kisame to play on my team—because, seriously, Itachi and Kisame are _always _partners...anyway. Ante up, anyone? Itachi and the chick, Sakura, or me and Sushi Bar?"

The crowd formed around the couch started shouting their bets, and she shrunk down, grabbing a spare controller off the ground and plopping down in between Dei-kun and…turning to her left , she swore someone left the blood/hot guy reactor faucet in her nose on, because, dear Kami, she was like, two seconds away from major nosebleed time.

She was sure she looked retarded, staring at the face of a god with her mouth slightly ajar, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights—

"Yeah, Pinky, you want some punch, un?" Dei asked her, holding the can of Hawaiian heaven out in offering.

The godly faced turned some to the voice of his friend and Sakura got a full view (instead of the just as hot profile) of his face and—DEAR GOD! Those lips were like a miracle! Man, Sakura really wanted to be blessed right about now. By god and his miracle working lips. AHHH-AHHH-AHHHHHH; HALLELUJAH CHORUS!

And then, he opened his mouth to talk. And it was heaven.

"I'm Itachi," The god-heavenly sounding HAWT stud-with-the-lips-of-a-miracle spoke articulately, his voice like a flowing river of perfect. He grabbed Sakura's hand and stared her dead in the eyes, smoldering, on fire, obsidian eyes burning through her soul, sending tingles up her spine.

He kissed her hand. "You must be Sakura. I've heard about you."

Her arms felt like jelly and she swore if she took that punch from Deidara it would've been all over this white couch. She swiped her hand out of his quickly, feeling so uncomfortably hot. "Um, yeah…_oh Kami, _you are so _**fucking**__ hot_ I want to do the Cupid with you**right** now."

Itachi's eyes widened a fraction, and he looked like he was choking on his spit for a second, but Sakura couldn't tell since he was so composed, cool, and awesome. She could bet all of her life savings that she had either hearts or stars in her eyes now.

"You meant to say that aloud." It was supposed to be a question but Itachi was too cool to ask questions and right now he had that smirk on his face (that was admittedly familiar to Sakura, as were those dark, mystifying eyes…the voice…) that was painted on perfectly. He's so flawless and yummy. She'd never felt so much like Ino before in her life.

Sakura swooned, melting into his dark pools of eyes. "Say what, Itachi-kun?"

"You said you wanted to do the Cupid with him. Right. Now."

Her eyes drifted like magnets, slowly, painstakingly reluctant, away from Itachi's and to the destroyer of all awesome pink hair. It was so short! (Cute; Hair grows back) And like, how was she supposed to put this in a ponytail? (Chic; Get a rubber band) And the bangs were getting so annoyingly in the way of her vision and making Sasuke look like a blur of pink, white-blonde, and petal. (Adorable; It covered up the forehead)

She hated it. (Loved it; No shit, the cut was theshit.)

Suddenly, it was hushed all in the Model Hangout area, and the two boys glared evilly at each other.

"Sasuke, why don't you go do whatever foolish little brothers do and let me handle this?"

Sakura gaped. They were _brothers? _She just announced to the whole world (okay, accidently, and the whole world was just Sasuke and Itachi…) that she wanted to Super Mac Itachi's Big Mac! Immediately! Oh, Kami, her mind got control of her sometimes and she really needed to stop it because it's making her sound like Mega Whore!

She covered her face, which by now was bright red, like a stop sign, probably radiating like a neon light. How could—why was luck so mean to her! What did she do? Maybe—no, she didn't…oh, wait; she stole candy from a baby while walking to the mall with Ino. Karma is a _bee-itch_.

Eventually, the previous chatter in the room revived, and Sakura felt a tug on her arm before she was pulled up from her seat on the couch. She knew some people had an authority complex, she knew some people had a dominance complex, she knew some people who just _enjoyed _pulling her through a headquarters like a spoiled baby.

'The people' was Sasuke.

And he was the Bastard (Genius) who shaved (cut a few inches off) her hair and made the most atrocious (face framing) hair cut (masterpiece) she had ever had before. It was ugly (adorable). She couldn't even say goodbye to her newest friends.

"You know what, Sasuke, we are going to have to work something out because I really don't appreciate being dragged through a building like a toddler that has no idea how to wal—okay seriously, why are we running! Do you _know _how out of shape I am?"

Sasuke just grunted and yanked her into a seat, glaring not at her, in particular, more like at every living being in existence; extinct, living, and yet to be created.

Her butt landed hard on the plastic, and she seethed, hopping up immediately, arms shooting out in anger. "What the _hell_, dude? I don't even know you and you've made my day twenty times worse already! It's not even—what time is it?"

He rolled his eyes and glanced at his—_important _designer—watch. "It's one forty four."

"—and it's not even two yet! And, dude, you don't even understand how much I want to cut your penis off right now!"

He only scoffed and grabbed her wrist again, returning to the pulling. "Right. Have fun with that."

Sakura growled. "Trust me, I will, because you have really made me that mad."

Sasuke wouldn't have admitted it aloud, but, opening the black double doors of the meeting room, this girl was really starting to sound like his Mom. Not in a good way.

* * *

Sakura shifted uncomfortably in the meeting room, her wrists duct taped to the chair. Where the dude even gets the crap is unbeknownst to her, but all she knows is that she hates it and wants it off right now, so she can go _home_. This isn't even fun. Isn't modeling supposed to be fun? Except the anorexia part?

Mr. Weston, he was the old guy screaming out the 'Next!' on Wednesday, Sakura found out quickly. It was just the old man's voice. She should've brought Tylenol; maybe Sasuke has some in his pockets that always happen to have powerful duct tape in them! Weston was also the one-in-charge when a man called Fugaku wasn't present, which he wasn't today. Apparently, he was in Milan with his wife.

Sakura couldn't help but wonder what they were doing there, of all places. She couldn't blame them. Sasuke must've been a terrible son.

Speaking of Sakura and Sasuke, the two were late, later than Ino, who looked a little more than buzzed for her own good. She must've been on fast forward with whomever she was mack-attacking.

Sakura guessed this was a meeting about a new commercial or some sort for school again, since the only models in here were ones around her age, or at least ones that looked it. She recognized one, beside Ino, and that was Sasuke, and Wallaby.

He was smart enough to wear a black shirt and sit half a table away from Sakura. She also found out, during some introductions, that he was, like, Sasuke's personal assistant thing, and did whatever he said. He was no older than thirty years old, and had a kind, meek, appearance, and the softest eyes Sakura had ever seen. She felt a little bad for him, having to deal with all of this model junk, stress, and, of course, Sasuke everyday.

Mr. Weston cleared his throat, interrupting any conversation that was going on.

"Being the near end of the spring group, and the beginning of the summer group in a few weeks, we heads of Sharigan want to introduce a few new ideas to your specific age group, since you are not to old to be ugly yet not to young to be innocent-looking."

Sakura almost barfed. They liked her because she didn't _look innocent._ Well if that isn't a slap to the face…

"We are spreading your horizon for this project. Mr. Uchiha Fugaku—"

HOLY CHEESE! Sasuke was, like, the founder's _son_. Man, whenever he get's back, she is _so _getting fired. Why was she such a butt to him? She could have this career swiped away in a second! She said that she wanted to cut off his…special area! She cussed him out, like, innumerable times! Sakura found herself spacing out, thinking of other ways she could make enough money to pay for clothes during the school year (even if they had uniforms…), decorations for the dorm room, snacks, shoes, and things of the such. It wasn't like Momoko was going to help out, because she is the opposite of nice. Which is mean. She wouldn't even share the house with her younger sister. It's _butt_.

Sakura shook her head, clearing her numerous thoughts and focusing back in on Mr. Weston.

"—and doing not only television acting commercials, but also marketing, in our newest idea still in progress, a magazine that will be published only in schools—."

He paused for a second, and she took full opportunity, her attention suddenly casting. Now, he was talking about things she liked. Sakura ripped her hand away from the tape, which was wrapped around the armrests of the chair about, I don't know, six times, with a clean swipe and a loud _rip_ echoing sound coming from the plastic. She wiggled her arm in the air, "I have a question! Actually two! No, actually, more than that but, yeah!"

Sasuke rolled his eyes. He had a feeling this was going to be happening a lot.

Mr. Weston smiled softly, pointing to the Haruno. "Yes, darling?"

Sakura ripped her other hand from the other armrest, since she, being as marvelous as she was, talked with her hands and needed them to operate her mouth. (Okay, that sounded weird…)

"Question One: What schools are they selling in because I go to Kono—?"

Weston interrupted her sharply. "If you haven't noticed, Iam the only who talks during these meetings! I find your outburst unacceptable and unruly! Remove her, Wallaby!"

Ino gaped. "She was just _talking—!_ "

"**OUT!**"

"In!" Ino yelled back, rising from her seat.

* * *

"I don't believe we got kicked out of a board meeting." Sakura groaned, beginning to feel like this was going to keep happening if she didn't learn control. You see, in school, it wasn't a problem mainly because she liked learning (gasp) and her attention would be one-hundred percent on the teacher. Other students would talk, she would ignore, they would ask if she were a new kid, she would glare. However, every summer, the lack of talking during the year seemed to bite her in the butt.

Ino leaned her back against the stark white walls by the deep black doors of the Meeting Hall, and sighed. "It's becoming monotonous."

They sighed together, watching the people who would occasionally walk by and rating them on a HAWT scale of one to ten, ten being 'I Need To Rape You Now', one being 'Plastic Surgery; Meet Face'. However shallow it was, it was fun, and, then again, Sakura probably wouldn't even be seen hanging out with Ino during the school year. Different social class. Tsk. They're low-key besties. Sigh…

A stoner with oily hair walked down the hallway, a broken guitar in hand.

Ino blanched. "Zero and a negative half."

"Seventy billion light years in negative space," Sakura yawned.

All the cute people had gone home already, apparently.

Their dramatized boredom only reached its peak when they decided watching a fat cat giving birth would be more attractive than looking at some of these people's faces, and they sighed simultaneously again.

"I am so bored, Forehead-chan!"

Right on cue, god parted the heavens and sent down the equivalent of his holiness in attractiveness of Itachi—that was he name, right?—as he rounded the corner, a smirk growing on his face. He reached the girls and kneeled on his knees, his amazing muscles looking sexier than ever. Sakura had told Ino about him once they rated the third zero in a row, and the blonde girl didn't believe it.

Now, get ready Naruto, here it comes:

Ino gasped. "I believe it."

Ino was so about to get her Cupid on with this guy. Sakura had a feeling, she could see the levers moving in her friend's brain, and then she screeched.

"YOU ARE SMEXY!"

Itachi only laughed, a low, rumbling in his (no doubt strong and toned) chest, sitting down on the dark carpet of the ground with the two fifteen-year-olds.

He cocked his head to the side, aiming his smoldering gaze toward Ino. "So, I am Smexy. Who are you?"

Her face flashed red. "U-U-Um…_my dear god! _I want to do so many things I want to do with you _right_now."

Sakura giggled; they really were best friends.

The three finished laughing—or chuckling oh-so-sexily—and, slowly, the hall melted into a comfortable silence.

That was until heaven decided to bless the girls with a voice fine tuned by angels again.

"So, you all got kicked out by Weston?"

Ino and Sakura nodded together. "Totally."

Itachi ran a hand through his hair, soft, touchable, addicting, and his gaze was serious on both the girls. "Listen, I want to have my own Modeling Agency, too. I'm calling it Akatsuki, and I think you both would fit in nicely."

Sakura felt odd all of the sudden. On one hand she wanted to stay here, it was already rubbing off on her, and, newsflash, she cut her hair off for them. On the other end of the boat though, she had probably more Itachi and well…

_Just look at his face_…Sakura swooned mentally, until she cleared her mind. It wasn't worth it. She was closer to this place, and Akatsuki was probably in Sunagakure, since Deidara was from there, and Itachi was his friend. They were just visiting Konoha, Itachi's hometown.

Sakura sighed. _Oh well_…

Ino looked like she reached the same verdict, and she started carefully. "See, Itachi, we both think you're a very nice—very nice, trust me—"

"Attractive," Sakura added.

"Yeah, very…very…attractive _and_ we're staying here! Okay, stop looking at us like that! We're fifteen and you're twenty so, it's wrong! It's illegal."

Itachi smiled a small smile, and averted his eyes to Sakura. "Here," A small square of paper was in his hand. "It's our card. Call if you change your mind."

She nodded as Itachi rose from his crouch on the ground, and walked away, a wave his form of a silent goodbye.

Sakura flipped the thick black index card around in her hands, nervously biting her lip whenever the light hit the silver embossing on it, reading: AKATSUKI, and then the metallic, almost bloody red underneath it that read: _Modeling Agency_. There was an address underneath that, following Itachi's phone number, cell and business (What's the difference…), and a man called Pein, with his two phone numbers.

She was tempted to rip it up in pieces, because, well, she's staying here, right?

Ino smiled lightly. "That's a pretty cool business card, ne?"

"…Yeah…"

It was silent for the longest, Sakura twirling the card in her fingers, thinking, Ino filing her nails.

It would be cool to work in Suna, and, she would have a place to stay, since Ino's father lives there. (Her parents are divorced, Ino's mom lives here in Konoha, her father in Suna. During spring break, Ino usually goes there.) Then again, she did already cut her hair for this place, and it was closer to her house. During the weekends during the school week, she could still work. It was convenient. With Akatsuki, she could only work during summer break and maybe spring break. That's all. However, it was all a matter of Itachi or Sasuke now, though.

The doorknob to the double doors twisted suddenly, the _click_ snapping Sakura out of her reverie, and she swiped the card into the back pocket of the skinny jeans she'd borrowed from Ino. She honestly didn't know why, but she did, seeing as Sasuke walked out then, closing the door behind him with another _click_.

He glanced at Ino. "Weston said he wanted you back in there. They're doing trust exercises. Your partner is the pale freak that's always talking about penis."

Ino stopped filing her pinky nail, and stared wide-eyed at Sasuke. She stuttered, "W-What?"

"Leave, they're starting now."

The blonde nodded, and stumbled to her feet, skipping over to the door and opening it herself, since Sasuke slammed the door shut behind her.

Sakura glared at him. "There's no such thing going on in there, is there?"

He shook his head in disagreement, "There is."

The ticking clock was the only noise for a long time, the sound echoing through the empty halls. Most people had left for lunch, and Sakura didn't blame them. She was starving, a consequence of having only a sip or two of tea for breakfast and some candy she stole from a baby for lunch.

Her stomach growled loudly, the sound only amplified because of the dead quiet. She blushed. "Sorry, I'm really hungry."

"Follow."

Sakura sat there on the ground, watching him walk down the hallway, toward the exit. What was she, some type of loyal dog that nothing to do but grovel at his—her stomach growled again, this time with power so much she could feel a strange nausea.

Clumsily, she rose to her feet, chasing after him. "Hey, wait up! I want McDonald's!"

* * *

**A/N: Rewritten 5/14/2010**

**Just changed a couple of things. : )**


	4. Because She Is So JEL

Barbie Is Stupid…

A/N: **I am so grateful to you all. You have no idea. Not only are you ****filling my supposed**** to be boring Saturday (you see, I write the chapter the day before I post it, usually) with awesome writing time and, like, you're actually reviewing and it's so exciting. It makes me feel all bubbly and happy inside. Ah. Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviews, and a big thanks to future reviewers, alerters, favers, and all that shiz.**

Disclaimer after Three Chapters: **I don't own Naruto!**_Sakura, I'm going to miss you._

* * *

_**Yeah, when I'm lame and you're popular, right?**_

_No. We'll still be friends. I was talking about your trip to The Nile._

_**That is **_**so**_** not funny.**_

**Barbie Is Stupid…**

**Chapter Four**

**Because She Is So JEL**

* * *

**L**ike a stealthy orange cat, Momoko cracked open the door to her sisters bedroom, her boyfriend but two steps behind her, wondering what she was up to _this_ time.

Between you and me, he's planning on breaking up with her. Nevertheless, keep it on the DL.

The Haruno older sister closed the door with a small click, and turned her head to Sasori. "Honey Bunch, can you help me look for the devil's phone?"

Sasori nodded silently, wrapping an arm around Momoko's slender waist, and walking around Sakura's messy piles of dirty clothes, and trying to ignore the tempting box of Crispy Cream Doughnuts just open on her desk, the glazy goodness mouthwatering. All he would have to do is reach over, just a little twitch of his wrist—

"Sori-kun!" The beast's hand clamped over his, forcing his arm down and away from the delicacies. He was _this _close to pouting, but, since guys so totally don't show forms of femininity, he decided against it.

His girlfriend sighed, biting her lip. "I can't find it, babe! I checked everywhere!"

"But you stayed here the whole time…?"

She stomped on the ground, and on some random piece of paper that said something about her school on it, and growled childishly. "I looked with my _eyes_, Sori-kun! I can't—" The tears fell down her cheeks. She sniffed. Her eyes turned puppy dog. "I can't find it…"

Fighting the urge to forget about wanting to break up with her and just kiss those pouting lips, Sasori groaned. "Did you check under her pillow?"

Momoko gripped his arm and jumped up and down, boobs (yes, unlike her sister, she was blessed with boobs before sophomore year) jiggling all over the place and Sasori fought a nosebleed. Screw wanting to want to break up with her! So what she was annoying sometimes?

Momoko was _hot_.

"Thanks, Sori! After I go through her stuff we'll have a little _celebration_."

The college student, the male, flushed pink for a short second, but leaned his forehead on his girlfriends, staring into her chocolate eyes. "Celebration? Is it your birthday or mine?" He breathed eyes half-lidded, lips close to hers.

Momoko shrugged and turned quickly on her heel, and reached under her sister's pillow and grabbing her sidekick, leaving her boyfriend making out with air.

Sasori groaned. He was about to get it _on_.

* * *

Sakura's Awesome Phone

**Password?:** **ChesireTheCat328 Correct**

…**Opening 'My Stuff' **_**Sub-Category 'Documents'**_**….Please Wait….**

_BLAB BOX_

**Password: 'I8TheCookie' Correct**

_B.A.P. Summer__—377 Entries_

_Sub-Category__: Freshman Summer—377 Entries_

_Sub-Category__: Sophomore Summer— 0 Entries _

_B.A.P. Freshman__—118 Entries_

_Sub-Category__: Semester One—53 Entries_

_Sub-Sub-Category__: Quarter One— 27 Entries_

_Sub-Sub-Category__: Quarter Two— 26 Entries_

_Sub-Category__: Semester Two— 65 Entries_

_Sub-Sub-Category__: Quarter Three— 32 Entries_

_Sub-Sub-Category__: Quarter Four— 33 Entries_

_B.A.P. Sophomore__—0 Entries _

_CHARACTERS_

…**Opening 'B.A.P. Freshman'…Please Wait….**

_**document one**_

**Last Updated: **Monday, August 25th, 2008

**Time: **11: 00: 56 PM

**Title: **LIKE OH MY GOD. NOT ELEMENTARY SCHOOL SUX BALLS!

Once upon a time there was a girl named Blossom, a fourteen year old Freshman, new to her high school, which happened to be total butt because, well, it had stupid uniforms and it was a stupid boarding school and she just so happened to enjoy her family and outside and the ability to go 2 the said outside whenever she frickin wanted 2 and not be locked up in a really stupid retarded school all the time! Like, what's up with that? Blossom just so happens to enjoy the freedom of having more time to run around like a deranged lunatic (psh, because what lunatic isn't deranged!) to her best friend's house whenever she dang wanted to!

She liked wearing pretty halter shirts to school. NOT UGLY ITCHY—okay, hope you understand Blossom's POV because if you don't you're just going to have to freaking deal with it.

Losers.

The writer of this story's thumbs hurt now. Blossom's back feels like octopus testicle…tentacle, (dang auto speller) because all of the stupid bags she had to move all her stuff by herself! And, like, no uber hot guy with bulging muscles would help her out because she is invisible.

Super powers are the shiz.

So, yeah, Blossom is pushing the off button now.

_**document eighteen**_

**Last Updated: **Wednesday, August 27th, 2008

**Time: **2: 34: 09 PM

**Title: **Curse of the Stupid

Okay, so, having just got back from the wonderful teachings of Human Anatomy (um, incorrect!), Blossom now feels the sudden urge to write on her frickin awesome phone so here goes, losers. LOL, anywayz. Commencing the story telling.

Blossom saw the hottest guy in the whole wide world today. His name is going to be Hawk because that's, like, really close to HAWT (because he is…) and she saw him for, like, two and a less than a half milliseconds and she wanted to eat him like a piece of Baby Ruth chocolate (because it is delicious and so is he).

For the sake of anonymousness, (omg Blossom so doesn't believe that is a word, SUPER SOX!) she won't go into mega-detail about him, but, hyperventilation, he is Smexy. Like, yummy-licious.

She also met a bunch of other coolie people today.

Nugget: Nugget is cool, but he is kind of fat, but that's okay, but, um, yeah. He shared his lunch with Blossom, (which just so happened to be delicious chicken nuggets!) and that was sweet so he gets the most awesomest name invented in America. Why America? Blossom doesn't know—maybe because she is obsessed with American boys who happen to be delectable. YES. (You Equal Squeal…Blossom doesn't know why she put that there…maybe because she wanted to? Loserrs.)

Sunshine: Sunny is definitely not a girl, okay! He's just a blonde boob with no life. Tch. (LOL, JK, Blossom and Sunny are, like, best friends in the world. Plus, Sunny said that he knew Hawk! Blossom gasps!) He has the prettiest eyes in the world and, he inspired an acronym today. He got a sticker, so, you're JEL. (Jealous, even Loserly; cha, right, Sunny inspired that one, too.)

Bowl: LOL. Blossom just loves Bowl's haircut. It's funny, but not the obsession Bowl has with certain words. Like…he says the word every ten seconds. Blossom swears on the Bible.

Yeah, there's more, but the awesome phone of Blossom is like crying of battery deprivation!

She clicks the save button now, the off but

(DOCUMENT AUTOSAVED)

_**document thirty-six**_

**Last Updated: **Sunday, August 31st, 2008

**Time: **3: 21: 04 AM

**Title: **OH, DAN, YOUR DOG IS DYING BECAUSE HE ATE THE NASTY TOMATOES! (Random Rabbits)

MAJOR ANNOUNCEMNT!: Shiz, spelled that wrong…anyway, writer of this story doesn't like third person…!

Blossom growled. Blossom's stomach growled, because, totally, she was hungry. However, there're these stupid rules here that say you can't leave after midnight and you have to be back by ten. That it utter ugly arse.

Despite that, Blossom is fine. Her roommate, Lilac, is really cool. No complaints.

Suddenly, Blossom is sleepy.

The phone goes off now…

—_**Scrolling, Scrolling, Scrolling….Loading document 118**__—_

_**document 118**_

**Last Updated: **Wednesday, June 3rd, 2009

**Time: **11: 00: 01 PM

**Title: **Hello Goodbye (NOT THE KICK ARSE BAND!)

sometimes, it totally feels lyk the yr has moved by way 2 fast, sometimes it feels lyk ur movn 2 fast 2 type sentences w/ real words.

Blossom was in the same situaion.

2dai was the las day of skool, otherwise known as pack day. Sincethis her skool a boarding school, they don't stay the whole year, n there is a point in which she has to leave all her friends.

it was hardest saying goodbye to sunny, though. he's going away for the summer. with his godfather, toad, to travel the fire country. it'll be boring during he summer.

sigh.

Blossom also h8d havn 2 say bi to lilac, bowl, nugget, pineapple, Minnie, flex and much more. Iz hard, cuz 1 point she didn't wanna b here, when rlly, its like dez ppl have bcome her fam n her friends.

Regrets/?

Only gettn a chance to see Hawk once, talking to him nvr.

Letn lipstick become lipstick, and losing her position as BFF.

Getn a frickin 12 percent on a final.

Demandin a retake on sed faild test an getn a detention for cussn out ta teach

FORGETTN TO BUY MIDOL! oooouch crampies.

Phone off. Dream on.

~Cuz I'm coming home.~

**end. (OR IS IT?)**Momoko gasped. This was freaking _goldmine_. And her sister _wrote it. _She was surprised that such a dummy could even work a cell phone, and she had a 118-chapter story on here! She'd been scrolling forever, but she finally read each one and it was good!

* * *

Major shocker.

"Hey, Sori-kun?"

Her boyfriend munched on a doughnut, licking his fingers clean, before he sighed. "What?"

The older sister gripped her sister's phone, sliding it in her own back pocket before hopping off the bed.

She laughed her freaking Count Dracula laugh. "Can you drive me to Konoha Board & Prep? Sakura's about to get a spotlight on the newspaper…"

* * *

Sakura blew bubbles in her Sprite, removing the bun of her double cheeseburger and picking off the tomatoes, placing each one on a spare napkin. She specifically told Sasuke no tomatoes, and he said extra tomatoes.

He is so going to burn in hell for that.

She threw the last red fruit onto the red paper with disgust. She hated tomatoes. They're gross.

"Sasuke," She blanched, "throw away the demons."

Said boy was picking through his salad, searching for more cherry tomatoes, only to find no more. He groaned. That's the only reason he got this stupid thing.

Suddenly, a balled up napkin was thrown at his face, and, true to his awesome reflexes, he caught it before the paper could reach his face. He raised a brow, "What…?"

Sakura whimpered, flailing her arm in the direction of the red and white McDonald's trashcans. "Throw it away, it's very DUI."

"That's…weird…" Sasuke muttered, pouring ketchup over his salad. Sakura watched this with wide, disgusted eyes, and swore she was two seconds from barfing.

She always hated tomatoes, so, consequently, she despised ketchup, and anything else that she really know about that included the fruit. They were like, lacking in flavor, but if it did have flavor, it was too watery and the opposite of delicious. Oh yeah, believe it, that means they're atrocious.

"Sasuke!" She squealed, pointing to the ketchup on his lettuce, "That's DUI!"

He stared blankly at her. "I'm just…eating…," He started to drink some water, but the levers in his brain started turning, reminding him of last year, and one stupid friend. Then he scoffed. "You know Naruto?'

You see, Sasuke and the Uzumaki go way, way back, back to the time of the dinosaurs. Their mothers were best friends, they hung out together during their pregnancies, going to those weird yoga lessons and Parenting 101 classes together, going shopping for matching baby clothes that they made their sons wear at the same time!

They were best friends before they could choose otherwise, and, Sasuke swore that he would deny he ever wore that matching Pumpkin suit for Halloween with Naruto if anyone brought up the picture. He'd say it was Itachi.

Anyway, sometime during the first months of freshmen year, the blonde started saying DUI all the time, blabbing it about everything. They would be at the ramen stand, and Naruto would inhale the noodles, sighing, "That is so not DUI."

They would be at the park, and he would declare a girl DUI.

Whenever Naruto tried eating something that he really shouldn't be (ha-ha, not that you gutter minded people) he would sadly say it was DUI.

Eventually, once those three letters were embed in his brain, Sasuke made him tell him what it meant, and Naruto went on and on, down this long list with different meanings to the acronym.

For the girl at the park, it was Deadly Upon I-ing

When he couldn't eat the fake fruit on a lobby coffee table, it was Dang, Unfortunately Inedible.

Sasuke shook his head clear. That was on such a level of stupidity that he was actually beginning to lose brain cells. He could feel them frying.

Sakura smiled, "Yeah, you know what it stands for?"

Sasuke smirked, an action that made Sakura's heart flutter for a split second, then shrugged. "Probably not your definition, because tomatoes are gifts from heaven."

"On opposite day!"

"Hn. I'm just saying…" The Uchiha ate some more of his salad, "Tomatoes are not Disgustingly Unbearably Inedible."

The roseate pretended to throw up, sticking a finger down her throat. There's something wrong with him if he thinks tomatoes are actually good. They're nasty. She's staying with that opinion to the grave with her. Nothing in the world will change her mind. Ever. She groaned, "Tomatoes are extremely DUI."

Sasuke, having found that one last cherry tomato that he swore was there, extended his arm over to Sakura, who was across the table, and offered the red fruit to her, opening his hand. "Maybe you're eating them wrong. Here, try."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "I don't thin—"

Okay, WHY WAS A CHERRY TOMATO POPPED IN HER MOUTH? She glanced to her right, where a super evil Emo boy had dragged his chair to, a mischievous glint in his eye. Sakura growled, careful not to let the fruit slip down her throat.

Her eyes narrowed evilly toward person-who-stuffed-the-devil's-spawn-in-her-mouth-aka-Sasuke until she was met by his gaze, dark eyes filling her vision, his nose millimeters from hers. Despite herself, and officially damning her blood, a blush crept up her cheeks, becoming so _bothered _right now. She felt like… like—oh no, her heart better not be deciding to like somebody!

"Did you swallow it?"

Sakura almost fainted. That could mean _so _many things…but, before she could allow her face to turn a whole new shade of red, she shook her head no.

Sasuke smirked (her heart almost exploded because oh-my-god she was forming a random crush on him out of nowhere!), his voice low, like a whisper, so only she could hear him. "Chew. _Really _slow."

She did as told.

Really slow.

Probably too slow, because she was like, paralyzed by Mr. HAWT at the moment, the same guy who was steadily moving toward her ear! He _so _just broke the personal space barrier!

He whispered in her ear, "Now, swallow, and tell me how it taste—"

"I-I-I need my phone."

Sakura suddenly likes tomatoes now. Hm, I guess it's time to go dig her grave, ne?

* * *

Sasuke was more than annoyed right now. Being the (not so) nice person he was, and Sakura being the (extremely) annoying person she was, they had ditched McDonald's and walked to T-Mobile, to buy a certain roseate a phone, since her story was too long and Sasuke didn't feel like hearing it and she basically _demanded_.

She turned to him, eyes cautious. "Are you sure I can get this? I mean, I could get one cheaper."

They were in the line toward the cashier, about to buy a HTC Touch Pro2. If you don't know what that is, you're a lame. However, I will explain. It's awesome. Enough said.

"It's no problem."

Sakura smiled, "Awesomeness. Just so you know, I'm going to piss as soon as I get this phone. Don't look for me."

Sasuke stared at her with a raised eyebrow. That chick is weird.

* * *

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**...Opening New Document…**

_**document 1**_

**Last Updated: **Saturday, August 22, 2009

**Time: **03: 02: 34

**Title: **MILK IT!

Blossom so could not believe it. First off, her sister, Pumpkin Face, locked her out the house with her old phone with all of her awesome stories on it! All gazillion chapters of it! Yes. She swears.

So, right now, she is so pretending to piss while she hides from this guy who is starting to freak her out just because, like, ten minutes ago, she swore she thought he was utter fart and now whenever she thinks about a certain farm animal ass that resembles his hair, she thinks of him, and she starts, like, hyperventilating. You want to know the story, don't you?

Well, go get her her old phone and you'll find out! UTTER SULKAGE.

Anyway, life is good for her anyways. She was hanging out with Lipstick earlier, who I might add isn't such of a slut she thought she was. One gets used to the whorishness. (Wow, that's a word…)

But, um, yeah, she's still freaking over the fact she got an awesome job the other day.

Um, yeah, she's still crying because her hair is all new.

Um, cha, right, tomatoes are now suddenly the opposite of DUI.

….Life is changing fast, no?

Actually, deep somewhere in her gut, Blossom has a feeling her life is going to change faster than she wants it to, and soon.

Okay, that's enough. She doesn't want to make her new crush—no not new crush 'cause she doesn't like him!—to think she's taking a dump or something.

SAVEAGE!

…**Save…Save In New Folder 'I'm A Sharingan Model!'**

* * *

**A/N: Rewritten May 14, 2010. Nothing major.**

**~seethroughglass (Narubaby2496)**


	5. Because Her Limbs Are Unbreakable

Hey, Forehead!

_**Yeah**_

_Guess What?_

**...**

_Lol, nothing._

* * *

**Barbie Is Stupid**

**Chapter Five**

**Because Her Limbs Are Unbreakable**

(**Without fire**, **chainsaws**, **or all of the above**)

* * *

Sasuke was waiting by the bathrooms, because his mother always told him that it was a good idea to watch out for girls when they went to the restroom, and make sure they make it out okay, that no mysterious screams were heard from the ladies' room, and that no men went in said bathroom. He was to make sure that everything was safe. Therefore, here he was, back against the wall by the water fountains, ignoring the ignorant children who would point and ask if he was a statue, and trying his hardest to stay planted where he was.

Morals taught by one's mother are sacred and should be followed, yes, but there had to be one exception and Sasuke hoped that annoying pink-haired, vermillion-eyed girls were that exception. She didn't even like tomatoes. That's should be enough to make _anyone _want to ditch her while she was 'peeing'. Nobody takes _this _long to piss.

Sasuke scoffed, running a hand through his smooth ebony hair. However much he didn't want to, however much he told himself he could care less for her wellbeing, he was still here, waiting for her to come out of the bathroom.

Just as he seriously thought she wasn't doing number one anymore, the fuchsia door with a large sign reading 'Girls' in tall, curly script swung open, and Sakura stepped out, phone in hand. Sasuke watched as she stood there, blocking the entrance, and therefore exit, to the bathroom, just playing on the new phone of hers. Eventually, she felt his gaze on her, her eyes rising quickly just to make sure it was he, then falling back on the clean new screen, glancing at it to make sure everything she had opened was now saved and closed. The fifteen year old straightened her slightly hunched back, slid the phone in her back pocket, and walked to the Uchiha, crossing her arms.

"Shouldn't we be going back now?"

"We're not."

Sasuke then started walking ahead, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and giving a silent order for Sakura to follow him, because after he got a good two or three yards away from her, she was still standing by the water fountain, gawking at his answer.

What did he mean they weren't going to go back to the Sharigan building? She wanted to model. It looked like fun; because honestly, she was a girl that enjoyed taken pictures and being the one in the picture, so, why turn down the opportunity to have a photograph of yourself done professionally, and the chance to see it on billboards, magazines, and posters?

Hence, she shook herself out of her daze and ran after the Uchiha, reaching him quickly, since he started slowing down for her to catch up unconsciously. Neither noticed.

"Why? I mean, I want to do a photo shoot like a mega model!" Sakura whined, sounding like a spoiled three year old at the moment, but, um, if she wanted to, she wanted to, and if people were going to bitch about it, then let them, because they're mega biters anyway.

Expecting some smart reply to her babying, Sakura prepared a fist to punch him in his pretty boy face, but he just shrugged. "Hn."

Sakura growled, more than mad, because, you see, being the avid writer she is, and a hopeful toward making the Weekly Writer's on her school's newspaper, she absolutely hated it when people made up their own words. It was aggravating, like; do you know how hard she works searching for words? Then, for you to just make up your own?

You don't even _understand_.

She charged in front of him, completely forgetting to note the yellow 'Caution: Wet Floors' sign nothing but nothing behind her, sudsy, slippery water right there, waiting to make her slip.

"That is _so _not a wor—**WHOA!**"

Guess what happened!

She slipped; hard.

Some people, like Ino, could survive their falls. Sakura, though, was about the opposite, because, even though she was wearing gym shoes that did have _some _lift, they didn't have much, she managed to trip herself, and fall, twist her ankle, and cast a crowd of at least twenty caring mothers, women, men and children, all of which who thought Sasuke was the one who tripped her.

* * *

Tsunade, ahem, excuse me, _Lady _Tsunade, principal of Konoha Boarding and Preparation for Future Success, stared incredulously at the smiling face of one of the few students that she wished would've never left the wonderful establishment. As that being the first year of Tsunade leading the school, she expected most students to question her role as principal, and, though many did, Momoko never once wondered of her authority.

She loved the kid.

Her younger sister was nice too, she could suppose. Sakura was a good student, yes, but that was all she could say of her. However, she didn't know her as well as she could. She'll just have to hold her judgment of the girl until later, even more so now because one of her favorites was just finishing gushing about her greatness at leading the school.

"…and you haven't lost your touch, at all, I am sure, Lady Tsunade. It _has _only been a year, am I right?" The Haruno girl laughed airily, trying to sound more elegant that she really was. Because, she really was a hag.

Tsunade smiled, placing her head on her laced hands, amber eyes sparkling from all the compliments. "Okay, Momoko-san, get to the point. I know you're here for something."

Momoko twirled her coral hair, hoping to look more innocent than she really was. Because, she was really Britney Spears in disguise. "Well, I'm sure you aren't aware, but, my little sister is in love with writing. She actually has a wonderful story written right here, on her cell phone," Momoko pulled out the Sidekick, "She has already said that she'd love you to see them. My little Sakura-chan is just a tad shy, you see, so she wished for me to come in her substitute."

The blonde woman nodded slowly, taking the pink phone cautiously.

"I-It's right here," Momoko pointed to the sub-categories. "I'm guessing that the first half is in the folder freshman, just because, freshman is the first grade in high school. It takes a while to read, I warn you."

Laughing, Tsunade motioned for her favorite student to sit in a chair. "Well, if it's going to take the time you've said it would, you might want to sit."

She sat immediately, sure to keep her legs close together (for she was wearing a slut skirt), and her posture straight, the happy expression on her face. "Why, of course not!"

The clock seemed to fast forward as Tsunade scrolled through the varied lengths of chapters, and Momoko kept her eyes trained on the woman, watching for the slightest twitch of her eyebrow, to tell if it were approving or disapproving, the smallest movement of the statue that the blonde had become, all the while finding a way to look like she was waiting patiently. She fidgeted with her fingers, stroking her thumb against the smooth surface of her red, manicured nails. This was taking much longer than it should, and that is _not _good.

Hurriedly, Momoko broke the silence in the office. "I-Is everything okay? I-I-I would just _hate _if I would have to tell my sister that her story wasn't right for the paper." She pressed a had across her heart, and forced tears to form in her eyes, easy ways to fake desperate emotions for her, since she passed Theatre with flying colors. Acting literally ran through her (tainted) blood.

Tsunade placed the phone down, and sighed, "Well, I'm then sorry to say that it's not."

"Oh, Lady Tsunade-sama! Say it ain't so!"

The words of worry for her sister almost made her sick, but she had to do it. The lengths one has to go to reach the goal are nothing compared to the feel of triumph at the end of the race.

The principal put an index finger and thumb on her forehead, rubbing away that ever-existent headache, and forcing her brain to find a solution. Eventually, she bit her lip. "This is a great story, amazing seeing as your sister isn't even a sophomore yet, but, it's too…" She moved her hand like a bobbing boat, "shaky, one could call it. It is amazing. Is your sister trying to get the story read by others?"

Momoko smiled wide, wiping an imaginary tear. "Yes! Exactly so, Lady Tsunade; she said that it wasn't something she wanted to publish, per se, but she wanted her fellow students to read it. Is there an alternative?"

She crossed her fingers, wishing for the said alternative.

After a second, Tsunade smiled. "She could put it on the internet, and I could find a way to advertise it on the paper."

The Haruno sister cackled evilly on the inside, but managed a sincere looking smile as she rose from the wooden seat she was seated on previously. She literally skipped to the desk, looking as happy as a peach about the other option, because she really was. This was better than her idea; now _other _people could read it too, and little Sakura would have her 'private journals and stories' read by the world. Nothing could be better.

She reached out to shake the older woman's hand, and grinned. "That is a marvelous idea, Lady Tsunade! I'll inform Sakura right away! Thank you!"

Momoko took the phone, almost running through the empty hallways in happiness.

However, reaching her boyfriend's car, a question arose.

How was she going to get the brat to post it on the internet?

* * *

Sakura leaned against Sasuke's shoulder, limping and wincing as they walked back to Sharigan. He was warm, she could admit, and despite her earlier thoughts of him being a complete ice-cube, he had a heartbeat, strong and an ease to the throbbing pain in her ankle. She was a complete dunce not to notice the bright, sunshine yellow sign.

Now, her ankle was broken because of it.

Great.

"Do you want to go home?" Sasuke asked tiredly, though he somehow managed to keep his voice as stoic as ever. It was hell breaking through the crowd who thought he was a murderer who tripped the girl just because he was bored. He's not _that _heartless.

Sakura blinked twice, clearing the remnants of her tears (okay, she cried, sue her; breaking bones hurts like hell, if you didn't know) from her vision. "Yeah. You can drive?"

Sasuke only nodded and turned a little, changing their course to where his car was parked. His father had taught him how to drive when he was eleven, simply because he was teaching Itachi how to drive and he didn't want to deal with the process again five years later. Sasuke just got a car this year, though, and he was only allowed to drive it short distances, like from home to work, or maybe to a friends house, because his lack of ID and insurance.

"That's cool," Sakura winced, both from the pain surging in her leg and the sudden change in lighting caused by the two reaching the double glass doors of the mall's exit.

There wasn't much talking, not that that was an issue for the either of them, on the journey from the East exit to the parking lot, and finally to the—

HOLY MACARONI!

Sakura gaped. That was a Mercedes Benz, all black, black tinted windows, chrome lined wheels, chrome detailing, and the red circle with three black commas of the Sharigan symbol was painted on the gas door. Her weight was shifted as Sasuke reached in his pocket, and, presumably, pulled out some keys and pushed the 'unlock' button on the remote, because when he did, the car beeped to life, the lights flashing white, signifying the unlocking process.

"Can you lean against the car while I open the door without scratching anything?"

Sasuke's voice broke her from her car fantasy, but who could blame her? The thing was _ah_-mazing. Eventually, she cleared her throat and hopped closer to the car, using his offered arm to help balance herself until the car was close enough for support. She mumbled, carefully placing her butt close to the hood. "I think I can manage."

He grunted, showing his acknowledgement, and reached for the door handle, pulling up the door and awing Sakura further. The thing had butterfly doors! That is _so_ kick ass.

And she never thought she was a car-whore.

* * *

"3248 Crystal Lane, right?"

Sasuke asked, with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the side of the car door. Sakura thought it wouldn't be that bad of an idea to see if her sister had finally unlocked the door, because even guilt has it's affects on the utterly evil. Therefore, she nodded, "Yeah. It's the one with the huge cherry blossom tree in the front."

It was a silent ride, Sakura stealing glances at Sasuke and wondering why he was being so nice all of the sudden, and even more why she would get these butterflies in her stomach when he would glance back and smirk charmingly, perfect, straight, white teeth showing through lips that could rival against Itachi's heavenly lips. Why, all of the sudden, in just a day, did she not want him to ever leave?

She massaged her broken ankle just to ease her bubbling nerves. "Um, Sasuke…this model thing, does it go through the school year?"

He turned left, into Sakura's subdivision. "Aa. Some of us just work on weekends because of that."

"Oh, cool. Um…Sasuke?"

Sasuke turned right, down Red Oak Street, where Ino lived. They passed the house familiar house to Sakura, and she almost waved to the gardener who was watering the extensive Yamanaka garden.

"Yes?"

She fiddled with her fingers. "Are you going to do it on the weekends?"

"Aa."

"You'll still be my partner, though, right?"

"Probably. Unless something goes wrong, you'll always be."

"Cool. Is there work on Sunday?"

"No."

He turned into her driveway, and left the motor running, though his hand was reaching for the keys, about to turn off the engine and help her to the door.

Sakura watched his hand, and then her eyes trailed up his arm and to his face, trying to memorize every thing. This was the last time she was definitely going to see him. Even if they went to the same school, the chances of him noticing her were slim, since she, despite her pink locks, just slipped into the crowd, an unknown person to everyone. Sighing, Sakura shook her hand, "You don't have to. I'll manage."

She opened the door then, the black rising slowly, and she stepped wearily on her feet, hopping a little at the pain in her left.

Sasuke looked up to her, immediately drawn to her eyes, easily seeing the dimmed color. "Anything else…before I go…"

"Um…will I—well, um—no. I'll just see you at work tomorrow, then, Sasuke-kun!"

She closed the door, but not before the words, "Yeah, you too, Haruno," could reach her ears, a small smile donning his face.

* * *

"Sakura-darling! I have good news…why in the world are you limping?" Her sister sang, skipping lightly down each of the stairs upon hearing the front door open and close. Finally, reaching the last step, she hopped off with a far-too-wide-to-be-considered-normal smile plastered on her face.

Sakura glared at her sister. "Long story. What do _you_ want, bitch who locked me out of my house and probably broke my—"

Just then, a pink Sidekick was thrown in her face. "Honey, I was thinking, don't you think it'd be cool if you could create your own website? With your own stories on it and stuff? And have it advertised in the school newspaper?"

A pink eyebrow rose cautiously as she hopped to the freezer, in search for ice. "Yeah, if it were possible." She semi-yelled, just so Momoko could hear her sulking.

Her sister popped up out of nowhere, scaring the living shit out of her. She yelped, but it didn't really matter to Momoko, because she was already talking. "Well, it has happened! Me and Sori-kun visited your school today and asked if it were possible. I always knew you _adored _writing, so why not get recognized for it?"

Sakura stared blankly at her sister. "Have you been smoking?"

"No! I just want to help you out, seeing as I've been such a _terrible _sister lately. I even started the site for you, all you have to do is, I don't write a new story or copy some you've already started…"

Momoko pushed her, literally, into the wheeled desk chair, then smiled at her shaken sister. "To the computer?"

Sakura's mind whirred faster than she was being pushed to the household computer, because she was really confused right now. What did her sister do? There's no way on Earth she would ever want to help her. There's no such thing as redemption. This was a _plot. _However, upon lying her eyes on the pretty layout of the website already prepared for her, Sakura glanced to her sister.

"You're not being a bitch, are you?"

Momoko shook her head back and forth. "Nope! I want to show the world how talented you are. This is a great chance, you know."

Sakura monitored her sister's eyes, searching for anything she should worry about, before shooing her away. "Leave. I have to write a story. What's the name of the website anyway?"

Before skipping out of the room, Momoko smiled. "B.A.P."

Sakura's eyes widened in shock, before she masked the emotion. She laughed nervously, "What would make you want to pick that, of all things?"

"Oh, it just seemed fitting."

...Sakura stared at her sisters retreating form with a raised eyebrow. She is so not pushing the finished button on the website creater. Yet.

* * *

**A/N: **I liked this chapter, mainly because it was really easy to write, can you tell? LOL. Anyway, Happy Easter! I'm late, I know…: D

Review? Yes! Awesome-sauce.

~NaruBaby2496

_**Rewritten 5/14/10. Minor things.**_


	6. Authoress Note

**Authoress Note!**

Hi, peoples! I am really sorry, I don't want you to feel like I've completely abandoned the story or anything, because that is completely false, an utter lie. I've just been mentally contemplating with myself on what to do, and, just recently (maybe like yesterday…) I decided that I had school come a long too soon, and that it was becoming some weak imitation of TheCherryOnTop with the Konoha BAP thing. That may just be me, but, whatever.

I've decided that I want to rewrite a few chapters, more like chapters that say school will begin in a few days, and then I'll focus more on the modeling part, because I've realized that's what has made my story unique in its own way. (That and thee fact Sakura has an uber evil big sister)

Well, I'm sorry it took me so long to reach this conclusion! And, if all goes well, I should be done tweaking chapters by the end of the day today (I don't have school today; I don't know why, honestly), and maybe I'll have a new chapter out tomorrow. So don't hyperventilate and freak out like crazy when you get all these updates in your mailboxes!

XD

Sorry for these new readers that are all 'Awww I was expecting a new chapter!'. You'll get your new chapter soon enough, so, in the meantime, why don't you alert to be sure you know of that new chapter of yours? I accept anonymous reviews, too, so don't be afraid. I love all forms of criticism, praise, and those little 'Update soon!'s are cool, too.

So, I apologize again at, like, the month-long disappearance. I'll try my hardest to at least get this to Chapter 15 until I black out like that again. If I do before Chapter 15, feel free to throw hard cookies at my face.

LOL.

**Okay**, **with loves**,

**seethroughglass**


	7. Chapter Six

KeepItLEGIT presents:

**Barbie Is Stupid…**

**Chapter Six**

"_Because when she applies for a job, her stupid mother doesn't get involved!"_

* * *

"Get in here Ms. Haruno!" Mr. Weston yelled loudly from somewhere deep in the depths of a modernly white room, red accents here and there, decorating the otherwise blah room with flowers. Sakura wondered for a moment what type of flowers those where, scooting on the smooth tiled floor in her slippers (yes the bunny ones because they are _awesome-sauce_), not even making half of an effort to reach the man she was forced to call boss.

She hadn't been to work in, what, forever, because summer was too cool and the beach was too hot! Ino was too persuasive, and she was too easily distracted. (Psh, those Suna guys were HAWT hot! OMG, there was this one with the most adorable—"

Mr. Weston bellowed again, "HARUNO!" His voice making the walls shake, and sending Sakura's back ramrod straight.

A hairdresser beside her—well, she supposed that was a hairdresser, considering she was carrying those small silver scissors (that certain bastards used to cut off all of her _hair_! Yes, she is still freaking out over that…) and a shiny black blow dryer with an obviously professional comb attached to the end—laughed lightly at Sakura's random jumpiness, then sighed. "You should hurry it up, Haruno-san. I heard that this meeting is quite important."

Sakura pressed a hand to her heart, checking for pulse. THAT WAS MEGA-SCARY! A-DUH! "U-um, yeah, sure. Do you know what about," she peered at the nametag, "Hee-nah-taah? I don't want to show up just to get fired."

Hinata smiled a small yet polite one. "Oh, I don't know that much—just the passerby gossip. You might get fired either way if you don't hurry it up."

Sakura nodded. "Thanks!" she waved, "Catch ya later, Hinata!"

* * *

She had a strange want to scratch right now. Well, maybe that had something to do with the fact that, after finding her in her pajama pants, a spare t-shirt from some camp, and slippers, Sasuke threw an itchy sweater dress-thing at her before slipping around a corner, probably heading toward a meeting himself. Some other nice make up person—they are so friendly! OMG—told her that morning things were usually every Tuesday like this. Sakura was peeved about that until a sweater dress was thrown at her rather rudely by certain bast-turds!

HE DIDN'T EVEN TELL HER TO CHANGE! It was like her just _expected_ her to!

Despite the fact she actually did…but…whatever…

She also wanted to run very far away, mostly because Mr. Weston was a very old, very scary man that was a better glarer than Sasuke, and that was a lot to say. The tension tightened like a guitar string being tuned, and, just when she was about to make up some lame excuse to get the hell out of that room—THERE WERE NO WINDOWS! It's scary to be glared at in a darkened room, without windows, with the door locked and a creepy pedophilic (MOST LIKELY) boss staring at you—Mr. Weston cleared his throat.

"Good morning, Ms. Haruno," he smiled, old wrinkles crinkling, "how are you feeling this lovely morning?"

Sakura snorted, about to say, "Tired; duh. It's freaking five in the freaking A.M., dumbass," but she played off the rude determent as a sneeze. "I—um—I'm a little sleepy, but besides that fabulous. Thank you," she grinned. "Forgive me if this is a little forward, but, why am I here, Mr. Weston?"

The old man's grin widened further. "You haven't been coming to work…?"

She could tell that he was hanging onto the last bits of his patience as if they were the very last pieces of gold on the face of the earth. He would explode as a bomb any second now.

Sakura scratched the side of her cheek, "He-he…about that…my Mom, she, well, why don't you call her? She's in Milan, but, I'll text her and tell her to answer her phone if you want me to."

Mr. Weston lifted a scruffy eyebrow. "If that would explain your _inexcusable_," Sakura looked around for the acid he must've poured on his tongue, "absences, then, yes. Do so."

The rosette nodded swiftly, reaching into the pocket of the borrowed dress and pulling out her returned pink beauty called a phone, and scrolled down in her contacts until she reached 'M'. Because, yes, she still labeled her Mom as Mommy in her contacts. Kill her. BEE-OTCH.

"Okay," she grinned, pressing the send button, "she knows it'll be you, too, so…he-he, just—here's the number."

* * *

Mr. Weston looked honestly perturbed when he slowly hung up his office phone, his beady eyes widened in complete shock.

Sakura giggled. "Did I tell you that my uncle is a sailor? We know all of the curse words!"

"Obviously so…," He said, stun still apparent in his voice, "Ahem—well then; your mother says that you may not work—"

"I already know that!" She shouted, her mouth working before her brain comprehended the words. Stupid old fat man.

"—until she receives a contract, since that is so important to a summer job." Mr. Weston muttered the last words, and ran a hand through his hair (toupee), "So, until then, I want you to acquaint yourself with your partner, Mr. Uchiha."

Sakura groaned, sinking into her chair. "But I've already acquantince-ed myself with him and now I have a sprained ankle, chopped hair and—"

"A job at a very prestigious modeling agency," He interrupted matter-of-factly, a teasing glint in his old eyes. Sakura growled at him lowly, and he jumped, "Well-um-meeting adjourned. Just because your mother doesn't want you printed in any advertisements or any commercials, does not mean you are excused from work, Ms. Haruno. Go find Sasuke and play twenty questions."

The rosette gathered herself after getting out of the (rather comfortable, soft, but hugging!) chair, dusting imaginary lint from the sweater vest. "Is that, like, an order?" She laughed, walking in step with the boss toward the doors, referring toward his advice to play twenty questions with the stoic Uchiha.

Mr. Weston chuckled, opening the door, "Of course it is."

MUTHER FUDGEERS!

* * *

The first thing—ahem, not thing, well person, well…more accurately _muscular chest_—she ran into on the way to the snack lounge was just the person she was trying to avoid. It wasn't as if she didn't like him, per se, it was that she would be better off not liking him, and to not like him, she would have to avoid all unnecessary conversation with him. It made sense when you looked at it…with your head kind of turned to the side and your left eye squinted like you do when your at those art museums looking at 'art' that might as well be your kitten finger-painting with it's claws.

Ah, art.

She sighed happily, glad at her utterly awesome-sauce analogy, and rounded a corner, two best friends walking with breakfast around the same corner.

Sakura immediately came to a halt.

Art was currently all over her face in the form of pancakes and whip cream, extra chocolate chips and strawberries!

She screamed, and the whole room hushed. "WHAT THE HELL!"

Her eyes plucked open eyelash by eyelash, the first thing she saw being an apologetically grinning tanned-obviously-by-the-sun blonde, cerulean eyes gleaming in guilt. "I'm so so _so_ sorry, babe! I was just, uh, walking with teme and he distracted me with his teme-ness and—"

Sakura sighed, deflating like a balloon when she felt a familiar gaze on her, not even daring to move her line of vision to the left just a tweak. "Stop smirking at me and go get me a towel, Sasuke. This is your fault because, obviously, this 'teme' that this kid (Naruto grumbled, "HEY! I'm no kid!) is talking about is you."

The Uchiha chuckled, "Why don't you get it yourself?"

"I AM COVERED IN PANCAKE CONDIMENTS, SASUKE!"

"…interesting predicament you've got yourself into."

"Get me a goddamn towel, Uchiha," she growled, eyes narrowed into slits as she glared at him.

He simply smirked. "Say please?"

* * *

Naruto laughed as his friend limped over to the linen closets, an icepack to his pretty boy forehead, a big ugly purple bruise forming on his calf, plenty of pulsating red scratches on his arms and face. The blonde (adorable) idiot shoved another whole pancake—fresh off the skillet and not from the rosette's face, lol—into his mouth.

"Ay, teme, I don't believe you let a girl beat you up." He chided, just as the silently cursing teen beside him yanked open the door, retrieving a darker towel from the middle of the closet.

By time he closed the door and started heading back, Naruto was back to talking. "And, like, you got beat up _bad_! You should _see_ the bruise on your leg!"

The amount of patience needed to ignore such an idiot is so demanding, Sasuke thought, head pounding in a headache, tongue begging to throw some retort at Naruto that would shut him up for good.

"I remember when Lee from school beat you up, and he didn't even get you as good as her! And there was a big old crowd in the lounge watching you, so you _can't_ deny it!" The blonde teen said between bites.

Sasuke wondered why in the world he was walking with such a…an imbecile in the first place. He's too good to walk with such complete idiots.

"And, like, even when you and Itachi—"

A dark aura surrounded Sasuke, colder than usual, and he seethed, "Shut up, Naruto."

The Uzumaki just grinned. "Why?"

The Uchiha simply sneered, lifting his arm to the plastic plate in Naruto's hand, successfully slamming it into his face. "Oh, look at that, Naruto, there's a little bit of something on your face."

Naruto glared as well as he could, and Sasuke smirked. "It's right there; on your whole face."

* * *

Sakura ceased spooning circular fruit cereals into her mouth when her butt vibrated, the cell phone in her back pocket—she had changed back into her pajama pants and t-shirt outfit the second she could break through the staring crowd and find a bathroom—and checked the ID. It was Bitch.

"Hallow?" She mumbled through chomps of cereal, sounding like a complete slob. It didn't matter anyway.

Her sister replied, "Yo-yo. How's it go?"

Sakura felt like she was talking to a complete and total idiot. "You called me."

"Oh _yeah_, that's right. Madre called and said that she doesn't want you working at Sharingan because you are an ugly excuse of a girl, and therefore a sorry dirt rag of a model."

"Yeah, sure she did." She swallowed the now soggy loops, "Tell her boss said that it's necessary for me to be here, yada-yada-yada, I will be doing nothing but practicing, getting to know my," Sakura mentally gagged, "_partner_…all that jazz. Until they finish making a business contract that Mom can agree on, I'll be doing nothing but getting used to things."

Momoko clackled, "I would barf at the TV if you were in one of there commercials."

_I would barf now_…Sakura disgusted mentally, envisioning just the appearance of her sister.

"Who's your partner anyway?" She asked seconds later.

Sakura quarried for a moment if she should tell her sister that he sister that her partner was the—THEE—Uchiha Sasuke—barf-sauce—and she would be the—THEE—girl that was with him most of the time in magazine ads, commercials, and anything else that would widen the knowledge of the agency. She wondered if she would be like Becky, from the commercial, getting mega-smooches from Sasuke.

Therefore, she sighed. "Hm, I don't know, yet. I'll text you; tell Mom to take a chill or something. I'll be fine, away from the public eye—."

"The Hills finale is on; stop blabbering, k, thanks, bye."

A dial tone filled her ears before she could comprehend it, and she stared at the screen of her cell phone, confused. Did Momoko just hang up on her because The Hills finale was on? That garbage show? Ugh, it was over before it started.

Sasuke finally came back with the towel, or she supposed it was him, the same type of forceful throw from earlier this morning with the sweater dress that she handed off to a random person. She grumbled, grasping the warm towel, glaring at the person who took a seat next to her at the circular table.

"You could try saying 'here you go, Sakura-chan. I hope I didn't keep you waiting long' even though it's been freaking half an hour!" She grumbled, eyes reddening in fury.

He just shrugged, completely throwing away her question. "You're acting weird."

"Weird?" Sakura echoed, "I'm acting weird? You're trying to be all friendly with me and I don't even know you!"

Sasuke stared blankly at her. "And?"

"And I don't know!"

She stormed away, confused, and, lol, into another Naruto carrying pancakes.

"I'M SORRY!"

"YOU ARE GOING TO BE!"

* * *

**A/N: Okay, I'm trying to start this story again! Say yay, LOL. It was really jumpy and everything, but I'm trying-like I said-to start it again, and I really didn't like the way it was going, so, I'm trying to fix it a little. Sorry if you're confused~!**

**Review? Please! XD**

**~KeepItLEGIT**


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